The MDP library...

Friday, January 30, 2015

I am warning you here and now...seriously. This past Halloween, I was inspired to write a scene for my upcoming DEAD: Snapshot--Portland, Oregon by an incident involving my BELOVED pair of Border Collies. I shared the video of Tyrion's response to my zombie mask. What you might have missed in all that barking was how Aoife came right up and wanted to snuggle my legs.

Tyrion (the model for Imp) and my daughter, Ronni.

What is about to follow is a scene that I had to take a few breaks in order to finish. It is in its rough draft form, so there may be a glitch or two. However, this scene is going to strike a nerve. Any writer who says he does not want people to feel REAL human emotion when their books are read is not a writer I want to meet.

What you see at any given moment under my desk.

Again...YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! The following scene WILL contain material that will be difficult for some readers. Use discretion.

***

Circe nudged the
woman. She could smell the wrongness, yet, this was her person. More than once she had tried to remind the one she
called Imp that they owed all that they were to this human. She was the bringer
of food and that made her important.

“Master?” Circe
whined softly.

No reply came
and the feeling of wrong seemed to grow and become overwhelming. Every fiber of
Circe’s being screamed for her to get away. Imp and the useless Golden
Retriever had vanished long ago, leaving her to tend to The Master all by herself.
Even the other humans had apparently all but forgotten about the woman on this
bed who was everything in Circe’s small world.

Her time as a
puppy had been magical. She remembered all the days that they would run
together; just Circe and The Master. And the treats for doing such simple
things as playing! At times, she almost felt guilty for taking them. She would
have gladly chased the ball and returned it for the pleasure of the run and the
way she was stroked, ruffled, and told how pretty and good she was by The
Master.

Circe loved her
human. She would stay at her side no matter what happened. And everything had
been perfect until the wrong ones had first appeared. The smell was confusing.
At first, they smelled like something that would be perfect to roll in. Only,
there was something else under that scent. It was…wrong.

And now…now that
smell was coming from The Master. Another whine escaped the frightened Border
Collie’s muzzle.

“Get back!”

Circe turned her
head and discovered Imp standing in the doorway. He looked angry, and his eyes
were almost solid black as they looked right past her and to where The Master
was beginning to stir behind her.

“The Master
needs us.”

“The Master is
no more,” Imp snarled. “She is now one of The Wrong. Get away from her before
she hurts you.”

“How can you say
that? How many times did The Master care for you when you would eat something
that you should not? Even when you made Bad Dog on the floor!”

“She is not The
Master any longer, Second Mother.”

The use of that
title made Circe pause. Imp only used it when he was being pack. He used it
when he apologized for playing too rough, or when she would be scolded for
something that was his doing and he would offer up an apology.

“She would never
hurt us,” Circe insisted. She could feel the Master move behind her. Perhaps if
The Master would but speak in her peculiar language, Imp would see. He would
have to see.

Hands ran over
her. It was in that instant that Circe realized that The Master truly was one
of The Wrong. There was that instant when the cold hands closed on her that
Circe reacted out of instinct. She whipped her head around to bite, but as soon
as she saw The Master, that urge simply faded from the years of conditioning.

The Master was
safety and love and protection. The Master was never hurt; even when she did
things that upset The Master, she had never once been nipped, swatted or even
scolded with much force. That is why Circe did nothing more than tremble as The
Master’s mouth came closer.

“Run, Circe!”
Imp demanded, but she would not. The Master would not hurt her. It was not The
Master’s way.

The cold hands
of The-Wrong-That-Was-Now-The-Master gripped her fur tighter and made Circe
whimper in pain. Surely that would make The Master see. All those times when
The Master would accidentally step on her foot or tail; The Master would always
stop and tend to the hurt. She would soothe with words and gentle strokes of
Circe’s fur.

The mouth came
in closer, and then clamped down on the side of Circe’s throat. The red and
white Border Collie yelped in pain as she felt something tear away. The pain
was more than she could stand and Circe jerked free. Her body landed on the
fall with an awkwardness as her legs did not free themselves properly from the
bed coverings. Instead of landing on her feet, Circe landed on her side and
felt her head bounce off the floor. She rose unsteadily and saw her own blood
shoot across the room and spray the floor. She manged only a step before The
Master landed heavily on top of her. Both back legs snapped under the sudden
and overwhelming weight. Again Circe yelped.

In her mind, as
the world faded to darkness, all she could do was ask herself how she had upset
The Master. What had she done wrong?

***

Imp watched
helplessly as The Wrong tore into his beloved pack-friend, Circe. He refused to
allow himself to refer to that thing as The Master. It was not The Master. It
was one of them.

The hot life
blood came in a jet from Circe’s throat. She yelped in a raw, ragged way that
Imp knew meant that she would be no more. He saw as Circe vanished under the
body of The Wrong. He heard her pain cry and the sound of snapping bone. He was
about to launch into an attack when the two man-things that were not of the
pack came on the run.

“You are too
late, stupid man-things!” Imp barked.

He saw that they
held things in their awkward paws that could cut and hurt the flesh. The Wrong
had managed to get to its knees and was pulling the limp figure of Circe in to
take another bite. The Wrong’s face vanished in the long, silky fur that Circe
had been so proud of and preened every time that The Master pulled out the funny
little thing that ran through that fur and made it shine even brighter than
normal as well as pull out all the kinks and knots that teeth would take hours
trying to fix.

As The Wrong
came up with a mouthful of meat and fur, one of the man-things leapt into the
room in his graceless man-thing way and brought down a cutting thing on the
head of The Wrong. Dark fluid that smelled foul and almost hurt Imp’s sensitive
nose ran down the face of The Wrong.

It was over.

Imp looked up
the hall at the new pack member that had introduced itself as Bailey (a name
that Imp thought was almost as ridiculous as the dog it belonged to). The
Golden Retriever was actually shaking with its tail tucked tight against its
belly. Imp wanted nothing more to do with this place. His pack was gone. When
the door opened the next time, he would run. Imp loved running. Of course he
loved it most when chasing after one of those wonderful discs or squishy balls
that The Master used to throw for him.

The man-things
were now talking. Imp wished that any of it made sense. He heard the name of
The Master, and on reflex, his ears perked. However, an instant later,his ears
dropped. The Master was gone. Imp was alone.

A new smell
began to drift into his nose. Instantly, the black and white Border Collie’s
lip curled back. There was something different, but it was still the smell of them: The Wrong. A twitch caught his
attention and Imp’s head swung around to the source.

It was Circe.

No, that was not
his pack-friend. When the head lifted from the floor where it had come to rest
in all that life blood, Imp snarled. The eyes opened and Imp could see the
death in them. Barking furiously, Imp warned this new horror to come no closer.
Man-things never understood, that was why it was no surprise when The Wrongs
had not responded to his warnings. Yet, this thing had once been pack…dog. It
had to understand.

“Stay back or I
will use teeth and claw,” Imp snapped.

That was the
first challenge that a dog learned once it was weaned. Most dogs liked to use
it in play, but Imp had first used it to warn one of the hated felines that
prowled outside his window and left their bitter scent on his favorite tree. He occasionally tested it on the man-thing that
stuck things through the door while The Master was away. A few times, he had
used it on The Master’s mate. That had earned him a kick in his ribs, yet he
had not been afraid. He smelled that man-thing’s weakness. He smelled the fear
when he, Imp, had issued that challenge.

This Wrong was
not Circe. Imp was certain as the thing that looked like her but certainly did
not smell like her began to drag itself forward towards him and the two
man-things that stunk of fear. It was a change from their normal scent. One of
them stunk of anger and Imp had made it a point to avoid that one whenever
possible.

The other man-thing
was different. Imp liked him. That one always scratched him behind the ears or
on his chest if they were close. He had been watching that one closely as he
seemed to be drawn to The Master. Imp thought they might try to mate soon
judging by the smells. He would have allowed it.

But now was not
the time for such thoughts. Imp snarled another warning at
The-Wrong-that-was-not-Circe. Its head turned towards him and milky eyes that
were laced with death seemed to consider Imp for a moment.

Hands caught Imp
as he started forward. He glanced up and saw the man-thing that reeked of
anger. He wanted to bite and demand to be let go, but Imp knew that now was the
time. The other man-thing had stepped forward, in his hand was the same weapon
that had killed The-Wrong-that-was-not-The-Master. With one swing, he brought
it down and split the head of The-Wrong-that-was-not-Circe.

The man-thing
set Imp down on the floor. There was communication, and then they both left the
room. Imp slunk forward to take one final look at his former pack-friend. Circe
had taught him much. Now, she was gone. He knew that she would already be
chasing rabbits in the Endless Meadow. He would miss her. She and The Master
had always made him feel like he was the most coveted thing that one of his
kind could feel.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Once again, J-Fell put together a winner. Just imagine, all you lovers of 80s rock, being able to get up close and personal with The Scorpions, Van Halen, and Ozzy! That is a rockers wet dream come true! Well, if you were in Portland, Oregon this past weekend and not one of those in attendance at the sold show at Dante's...you missed out. Lovedrive, Unchained, and Crazy Train hit the button on Mr. Sherman's Wayback Machine and brought on some of the best rock and roll money can buy.

Lovedrive opened and set the bar high. No worries, having seen both Unchained and Crazy train a few times, I had no doubts that the marks would be hit. However, let me get back to Lovedrive for a moment. Having seen the Scorpions at what I consider to be their prime (the Blackout tour), I feel qualified to say that these guys bring all the energy and a sound that will blow your mind. This was my second time seeing Lovedrive, and I am now a BIG fan.

The benchmark for me comes from a vocalist that can give me Klaus' unique vocal sound. No problem here. And the guitar attack is hard, fast, and loud. This is your father's Scorpions! I would highly recommend that you scour the Portland metro scene and find their next show. If you love the Scorps and wonder what it would be like to stand so close that you can literally reach out and touch the band...well, get a ticket!

The middle act was one of my personal favorites: Unchained. I have said it before, and I will say it again. These guys are amazing. They bring you with them on a journey through everything that you loved about the original Van Halen. The big difference is that these guys know you are there and they sincerely appreciate their fans.

I will say that the gang has made some changes. Change is always scary, but when a band does it, they have to try and gauge the crowd to see how it plays out. For Unchained, this change included adding a few "B-Side" songs to their set. As a fan of Van Halen, I was totally thrilled to hear my personal favorite song "Take Your Whiskey Home". The band stepped out on a ledge and, in my opinion, found a bridge to an entire new level of FREAKING AWESOME!

There is nothing I can tell you about Unchained that would do the band justice. Don, Brad, Harry and Dirk will give you a show that will make you remember exactly why you fell in love with this music. They become Dave, Eddie, Michael, and Alex. If you let go for just a moment, you will believe that you have indeed gone back in time and stumbled into something magical.

Many tribute bands have to really go through a transformation to try and look like the icons they are paying homage to on stage. Tim Tugg leads Crazy Train on stage and you will believe to the very end that Ozzy has a secret life. Yes, he is just that convincing. And while Dan Bates might not have the flowing blond locks of Randy Rhodes...he is a shredder with the talent to make you wonder why Jake E. Lee got the gig instead of this guy. Bates, in short, kills it on guitar.

This is another band that you need to put on your "Must See" list if you have an ounce of love for Ozzy, Sabbath, or just some good old kick ass rock. The stage can barley contain this band, and unless you were camped out in front of The Paramount or the Memorial Coliseum back in the day, you have never been this close, and there is something amazing about watching this band perform.

I saved this last bit for the end. I do not know how the hell Rick Lepinski (slap me next time you see me if I spelled it wrong) is not playing bass in stadiums. As the bass player for Crazy Train (and Maiden Northwest) he is perhaps one of Portland's best kept secrets. I also think he must have fingers made of titanium. Thee way he hammers that bass is hypnotic. Seriously, see him once and I defy you to not be impressed.

A big tip of the hat to all the bands for a night to remember. And if you are getting tired of reading about all this amazing live music...THEN GET TICKETS! See you there.

Monday, January 26, 2015

My mornings are a time to ramp up for the day. On some days, I start with a run. Everything is dark and quiet. It is amazingly peaceful. The only problem I have are the undead that are often right on my heels.

Seriously. You think I am joking? Or maybe this is the start to some new short story? Nope. I have an app on my phone. Zombie Run 5K. I found this little gem while surfing around one day looking for ways to get myself up and in shape to run an actual 5K (without the zombies). I found this app and it has actually worked wonders in keeping me on my routine. Even better, now Denise has started and I am very proud of her as she heads out the door in the mornings with me. She brings Tyrion and I bring Aoife.

To keep her from feeling the need to deal with my pace, we actually separate at the end of our street and do our own thing. I am utilizing all the hills around where we live. She is just getting started, and so she keeps to a route with fewer of the heart rate spiking slopes around the neighborhood.

In any case, the beauty of this app is that it is telling a story as you go. Also, you can have your own music that is on your phone pumping in the background between "transmissions" as you train and eventually take part in runs as the fabled "Runner 5". Personally, I need the help from Ratt, Van Halen, Motley Crue and others as I run. It helps take my mind off the fact that I HATE RUNNING!

Yet, with this in my ear, it really does help keep me going. And once you finish the training on the 5K app, you can graduate to the Zombies Run! app that has a plethora of missions with more coming seemingly every year. The fun really begins there as you have the option for random zombie chases to begin. In those, you have to increase your speed to escape. You get a distance warning and can even start to hear them as they get closer. If they "catch" you, then you might lose some of the valuable resources that you managed to acquire as you build your base.

New Year's always brings on resolutions. Many revolve around physical activity. So, if you are trying to get motivated, but just have not found the way...perhaps give this a try. The app is certainly helping me (and Denise)!

Friday, January 23, 2015

How about a signed wedding invitation. Here is the cool thing, you don't even have to attend or bring a gift...absolutely nothing needs to be done on your part.

Okay, that is not ENTIRELY true. You need to comment in the link; either on my blog or on my Wastebook Author page. By doing so, you will be entered to win a signed ticket (I'll even have Denise sign it!) Denise and I are renewing our vows on our 13th anniversary. The ceremony is on February 22, 2015 at the KISS chapel in Las Vegas, Nevada.

Now, as a side note, if you are going to be in Vegas at that time...I am actually inviting you. Seriously. We are having our ceremony at 11 AM. We do have a coupe of friends that will be in attendance. Unfortunately, schedule issues and such will prevent our daughters from attending. So if you are going to be in Vegas on the 22nd, all you need to do is email me at twbrown.maydecpub@gmail.com with "WEDDING" in the subject and I will get your address and actually mail you your invitational ticket. Yeah. I mean it. Not joking. We will be arriving Friday morning (Feb. 20th). So who knows what might happen. And like they say, "What happens in Vegas..."

In other news, I received a mock up of the tee-shirt that will be given to fans who buy "Zombie Row" tickets for the upcoming Portland Thunder AFL season. That and a signed copy of DEAD: Snapshot--Portland, Oregon will be yours. And who knows...I might even be able to stop by the row and say "hi!" during halftime.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

Okay, folks. Here is the new cover for DEAD: Snapshot--Portland, Oregon. I need some feedback here. I have the weekend to mull it over. I love it. But what do YOU think? That is the Audiobook cover. And below is the book cover.

Let the commentary begin. And for those unfamiliar with Portland, Oregon....that would indeed be the KOIN Tower in flames on the left.

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

So, normally I give the lowdown on the show I saw by talking about the opener and then the headliner. Not this time. When I saw the band Shoot to Thrill for the first time, it was at the Canby Harefest. I will openly admit that I had two very distinct reactions. Musically, I thought that they were the tightest band to perform when it came to the music. However, I was not as enthusiastic about the lead singer. Evan Berry is a talented young man, of that I had no doubt, but I have seen the original lineups (meaning both Bon Scott and Brian Johnson) in the flesh. Evan's vocals were too modern. He was a bit of a screamer, whereas, Bon was nasty sex and Brian was a punch in the face.

A few months later, I entered the Aladdin with no new expectations. I will say on the record that Evan has grown into his role, and if he continues to show this sort of amazing growth, then he will own any true AC/DC fan's admiration. He came out and took control of the stage and belted out vocals in a way that made me wonder what spirit he was channeling. He had an edgy nastiness when he took on AC/DC classics from the Bon Scott era and then snarled out the Brian Johnson lyrics with a voice twice the size of the young man I had seen just a few short months ago.

The rest of the band is still just as tight as I remember. Ted Berry IS Angus Young (as well as Evan's dad) and he is a ball of energy that will make you wonder what fountain of youth he drinks from before the show. Maury Brown holds down the rhythm as Malcolm Young (with one of the most beautiful guitars I have seen in a while) and Jeff Krebs drives the rhythm engine on bass along with Kevin Rankin on the drums as Cliff Williams and Phil Rudd respectively. If you are in the Northwest and have never seen the power and glory of an AC/DC concert, or, if you just want to re-live the glory of one of rock's premiere bands, then go to the J-Fell page and find out when and where you can see them next. Fair warning, this show sold out...and I see that as a trend that will continue for a long time. And let me just say to Evan Berry...young man, you have converted me into a fan.

Livin' on my hair...err...a prayer...

Steelhorse is the band I came to the Aladdin theater to see. This is another band that I saw for the first time at the Canby Harefest this past August. When I was younger and Bon Jovi was popular, I actually dismissed them because I was into Motley Crue, Van Halen, and KISS. I saw Bon Jovi as too pretty to like. However, the Young Guns song, Blaze of Glory, converted me. Then I found out that this was the same band that had put out the track Runaway a few years earlier. So I wiped the egg off my face and gave them another listen. After that, they were sort of my dirty secret.

Two very cool cats

Mark Thomas fronts this band and if you are not right next to him, you would swear that Jon Bon Jovi snuck onstage. He is simply amazing and has some crazy good vocals. However, this is the band that was a too-close-to-call second when it came to the tightness of their sound onstage.

Don't try this at home. Singing...drumming? Oh, and then he hit skins for Shoot to Thrill

That has to be credited to Bryan Harvey on keyboards, Jeff Buehner on bass and Kevin Rankin on drums providing a soundtrack. Yep, Kevin Rankin pulled double duty that night. After a flawless set behind Steelhorse, he drove the bus for Shoot to Thrill. J-Fell knows how to put together one helluva night for music fans. I will say that Jeff is one of the most enthusiastic and expressive bass players on the tribute scene (and alongside Motorbreath's Mark Trees, could probably become the next WWE tag team champions of the world).

Look...it's THE KISS!

I saved a special part to talk about a very talented guitarist. The first time that I saw Brian McGroovy (how cool is that name?!) was with a Cult tribute band. He just exudes "cool". He is one of those guys that you watch play that makes you believe that playing the guitar is easy. Make no mistake...it is NOT. However, he is just that damn good. He is charismatic and plays with style. I think I have a slight man-crush on this guy. Not in the scary, stalker way, just in the "hanging out with this guy would be freakin' awesome" sort of way.

If you were not in attendance, I once again urge you to find out the date of the next Steelhorse gig. If you are a Bon Jovi fan, you owe it to yourself to get closer than you probably ever came to the real band. And the beauty is that you will be hard pressed to tell the difference.

Monday, January 19, 2015

A few years back, I recall listening to a few of my friends tell me that this whole ereader craze was just a passing phase. People wanted to hold the book in their hands. And I think that is a wonderful thing...the whole having the book in your hands thing. Yet, e-books are outselling hard copies by leaps and bounds. In my case it is on a 100:1 scale, that or there abouts.

I have a close friend who is a librarian. So, I understand her dislike for the digital medium. However, while ebooks are big business, I believe that the physical book will never go away. So, what is this all about? What is my point?

Simple...audio books.

Coming SOON!

Now, they are not for everybody. And if the story has a lot going on, it might get confusing if you do not pay attention. However, an audio book is great for that morning or evening walk or run. They are wonderful when you are grocery shopping or doing house work. Also, believe it or not, the time to work in the yard is coming around again soon. With the exception of mowing the lawn (and even then if you have good noise cancelling head phones) an audio book is spectacular. And here is the beauty...you can treat them like the old daily soaps. Listen to a chapter or so and then tune in tomorrow.

Believe it or not, I still have some unclaimed gifts from last year. 16 to be exact. Curious? Or maybe you already enjoy the audio love. In any case...if you email me with "GIMME SOME AUDIO LOVE" in the subject line and let me know which of these remaining titles you would like...then you might find yourself with some company for whatever it is that you do while you do the audio book thing. Trust me, they are not going the way of the dodo!

Friday, January 16, 2015

As I put together my upcoming novel, UnCivil War (A modern day race war in the United States), I am already aware of the potential for the material to be considered offensive. I am sure that I will take heat from just about every side on this issue. Whether it is the use of the hated "N" word, which (sadly) must be a part of the dialog in something like this, to people say that I am modeling after negative stereotypes.

Here is the hard, cold fact behind my writing this novel. It is a worst-case scenario about something that is eating at the fabric of our country. No mater what your actual belief might be, the truth is that we are still a nation divided along lines of color, ethnicity, and sexual orientation.

The bottom line is that this is simply fiction. It is a story. Make-believe. It has nothing to do with my views or beliefs. Some of what I write is offensive to me, for crying out loud. But I stand behind this novel as a work of cautionary fiction. Do I expect it to make even the slightest difference? Nope. Do I hope it will entertain? Oh yes.

That said, enjoy another snippet of what I hope will be a late spring release. Below is another excerpt from UnCivil War (A modern day race war in the United States).

“…are ordered to disperse,” the voice
from the bull horn demanded. The crowd grew louder as voices hollered their
defiance and refusal to obey any such demand.

The wall of uniformed officers stood
shoulder-to-shoulder, riot shields in a row like a Roman Legion. With visors in
place, it was impossible to tell if any of the officers were angry, scared, or
eager. Earpieces crackled with the order to advance half the distance to the
crowd. As one, the row moved forward.

The crowd grew even louder as shouts of
alarm mixed in with the defiance. From somewhere, a large chunk of concrete
flew through the air and smashed into a shield. From behind the long line of
riot police the order was given to the dozen officers holding M-32 launchers to
fire a volley of tear gas into the crowd. The hollow thumps were drowned by all
the noise, but seconds later, pillars of the acrid smoke began to rise from the
midst of the agitated mob.

A volley of bricks and other debris
flew back at the officers. Individuals began to break from the mob and rush the
wall of shields. There was a cacophony of sound, but when the booming report of
a shotgun sounded, there was a brief instant of near silence. Real or imagined,
it felt as if everybody on both sides froze, trying to determine where that
shot had come from.

That instance passed, and the sounds of
voices drowned in the barrage of gunfire. The police were caught completely unaware.
They were prepared for bodies charging them, for thing to be hurled at them. They
were unprepared for a flurry of bullets and buckshot.

The mob rushed forward, smashing into
the crumbling wall of policemen. Screams and shouts drowned out any orders
being given. More tear gas was fired along with a hail of rubber bullets. It
was too little, too late, as the mob overwhelmed the police force.

Rioters walked away from the skirmish
with pieces of gear from the decimated squad. The yells, cheers, and taunts
increased as the few uniformed officers able to still move made their way up
the streets away from the chaos. Some were dragging their fellow team members;
others were simply running from the carnage. Even the seasoned vets had been
taken off-guard by the attack. They were used to a few agitators rushing their
position and being hauled away in cuffs. The fierce violence of this mob
coupled with the surprising number of firearms brought to bear had been more
than they’d bargained for.

***

Russell watched the video feed coming
from the camera team set up on the roof. He couldn’t have asked for a better
outcome. He had a hard time not laughing at the arrogance of the police. They
believed that their uniforms made them invincible. Their overconfidence had
been their undoing and played right into his hand. He turned back to the camera
and waved for the frightened young woman running the cut-ins and such up in the
producer’s booth to bring him back up for broadcast.

“So, I believe your insistence that
this is simply a bunch of ‘uppity niggers’ has been sufficiently thrown in your
face. And as I promised…” Russell
nodded and Panama dragged a middle aged Hispanic woman into the area between
the news desk and the camera. “I warned you that any show of force against my
brothers and sisters would result in another death.”

The woman had been sobbing up to that
point. She stopped and shook off the hands holding her in place. She climbed up
to her knees and folded her hands under her chin and began reciting a prayer.

“You can’t!” the cameraman yelled,
tossing his headset down and stepping away. Slick stepped in, bringing the butt
of his shotgun into the man’s gut, sending him doubling over.

“Perhaps you’d like to take her place.”
Russell motioned the man forward.

The man stepped out from the darkness
and into the bright studio lights. He cast a wary glance at Panama, then walked
over to the praying woman. “Let her go. Not just delay her execution for
later…I mean let her leave,” the camera man said as he stood over the visibly
pregnant woman.

“You wish for her to go outside into
that crowd?” Russell asked. “She might be better off in here.”

“What? So you can just kill her later?”
the man retorted.

Russell gave the portly man a hard
look. “If I give my word, unlike the
White community and this country’s politicians, I keep it.” He let his statement
hang for a second before continuing. “So I will ask again…are you willing to
take this woman’s place?”

The man looked down at the form still
praying at his feet, then back up at Russell. “I am.”

Russell nodded and Slick walked up
behind the man and put a pistol against the back of his head and fired. There
was still an outpouring from those present, but the worst came from the woman
who had been spared. She crawled to the dead cameraman and began sobbing, her
body shaking as she tried to form words of prayer over the man who had just
given his life for hers.

“You are animals!” she finally managed,
glaring up at Russell.

“Perhaps,” Russell nodded, “but we are
animals that have been backed into a corner and have no choice but to fight our
way out.”

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

So many things flash by our consciousness every single day. As we try to get from our own individual "Point A" to "Point B" we are constantly under a barrage of images, sounds, and influences about what to do, buy, look like...the list goes on. Yet, we make those choices on our own and so, even when so many of us might follow one trend or another, it is our unique outlook that allows it to still be something of our own creation.

Take zombies for instance. (Yeah, I bet you didn't see that coming!) The classic zombies from our beloved Romero movies were slow. The horror rested in their sheer numbers; that, and the fact that they were "us" for the most part. The idea of killing your husband, wife, or significant other is not a normal thought (for most of us...and seldom taken seriously). That would make killing that zombie that, for all intents and purposes, was a person that you loved, a difficult prospect. So many people make statements that they could not see how such a thing might spread. Simple. We are not designed to kill each other at a whim. If that were the case, the freeways would be a killing zone every night at rush hour.

But then Snyder brought us sprinting zombies in the remake of "Dawn of the Dead". I know that some of you are pounding your desk and demanding to know why I did not use "28 Days Later" as my example. Simple. They weren't zombies. It was a rage virus. Similar? Sure. But from my perspective, those were not zombies.

Some folks keep saying that the whole zombie craze should have just about run its course. Why? Because they don't like it? Or are those the same people that knock(ed) Hootie and the Blowfish? Huh? Oh...let me explain. Hootie was HUGE back in the early 90s. However, that band started in the clubs of South Carolina and then blew up. And when they hit, it was a tidal wave. You heard them on every station, all day. The inevitable happened as folks burned out on the Hootie craze. Yet somebody bought those millions of records. I would be willing to bet that many people who made jokes were also singing along in their cars and showers as Hootie pleaded, "Hold my hand..." Pretty soon it becomes more popular to take a shot at something (even if you once enjoyed it).

How long have vampires been mainstream? And say what you will about the "Twilight" saga, but it sold millions as well. And while folks certainly made "sparkly vampire" jokes, I don't recall many people saying that vampires would "run their course" or anything of the sort. Also, last I heard, the Twilight books and movies had made millions. Somebody is buying those tickets...reading those books. The author took her own perspective on vamps. It sold. Be mad, be jealous...but she is rich off a monster that should have run its course after Jack Palance portrayed Dracula on a movie-of-the-week. And how many vampire shows are on television right now?

There are a few new spins on the zombie out there. And I am certain there will be many more to come. While there may be a glut of zombie fiction, it is not all the same. With the blowing up of the genre, you have new and fresh minds using their own unique perspective and creating something fun. Sure, there will always be people that re-hash the classic story line, but like any mine, if you dig, you will find something that sparkles.

And there is another aspect to this equation that often can be overlooked. YOU. Yes, you, the reader. You come to the table with your own ideas. No matter how I might describe something, you color in the details with your own perspective. Every so often, I have offered up ideas for what actors I see in the roles of some of my characters. Take That Ghoul Ava. Famke Janssen. That is who I picture in my head when I write her. Now, ask other people and they have something else in their heads based on the world that they created using my words as a template.

Monday, January 12, 2015

Over 40 titles that I have gifted from my audio collection have gone unclaimed. Now, I am totally okay for those who don't like or care for the audio book. Also, some folks may try it and decide it is not for them. Again...TOTALLY okay!

However, that means, in the spirit of the holidays, I am about to embark on some SERIOUS re-gifting. Want the list? Here it is.

DEAD: The Geeks (Vol. 1)--3 copies

DEAD: Perspective (Vol. 1)--3 copies

DEAD: Vignettes (Vol 1)--2 copies

That Ghoul Ava (all 4 titles in the series)--2 complete 4-book sets

Zomblog--1 complete audio book set of the 6 book series

DEAD--(the 8 books currently available) 3 sets

Now, maybe you are one of those people who have either forgotten, or simply have not gotten around to snagging those freebies. Cool. Drop me a line and let me know. However, since I have resent many of these titles to the intended winners and they remain unclaimed, I think it is safe to say they are not digging the audio love. Cool. That just means that YOU get a shot at claiming these babies. Simply shoot me an email at twbrown.maydecpub@gmail.com with "I AIN'T TOO PROUD FOR A RE-GIFT" in the subject line. And let me know what you want. Want one series? One book? Or ONE OF EACH...cool. Somebody needs to use them.

Sadly, these are code for the American version of Audible. However, if you are a UK fan, no worries...I still have some free titles to give away to you. Just email me at twbrown.maydecpub@gmail.com.

Lastly...anybody interested in starting an audiobook review site OR even an audio book club with a few friends who will share the experience and maybe meet and discuss. Shoot me an email. I will tell you how you can not only have my stuff for FREE, but also how I would be available using Google Hangouts for a little Q & A session with you and your book club.

Friday, January 9, 2015

Funny, but some people think that there is some sort of crazy glamorous life being lived by yours truly.

Well, as you can see from Tyrion's level of excitement...nothing could really be much further from the truth. Now that the holiday season is over, I don't have any sappy Hallmark Christmas movies to watch, but that is good because I am WAY behind in my reading. And that is how I tuck in most nights...reading a good (or sometimes not-so-good) book. Bedtime can sometimes be as late as 10 on a "school" night.

My day consists of me getting up, and on certain days, hitting the road for my morning run. (Although I must use the term running loosely here since my best speeds are better timed with a calendar instead of a stopwatch.) Then I get Denise's coffee ready and bag up her lunch (this morning was leftover lamb chops, rice pilaf and steamed broccoli from last night's dinner). As soon as she leaves, I pour my own cup of coffee and head down to the office to get in my first writing session. From that point on, it is a rotation of writing, editing (if I have a project on the cutting blocks), interacting with the Border Collies with a Frisbee break at some point, as well as time with the new bird.

I mix in some housework (and yard work in the spring and summer months), laundry, cleaning the kitchen, and once or twice a month I am forced to sally forth into humanity to grocery shop. Around noon I do my P90 X or similar routine and then hit the shower. After that, more writing. And more writing. And more writing. Get the picture? And soon there will be regular studio time.

Around 4-ish I start planning dinner and handle any prep that needs doing. If I can get in one more session, I do, but if I can't hit my 500 word mark, then I don't bother. I hate starting the day with an odd number of words in my project. That is why I write in 500 word increments even if I have to stop in the middle of a sentence.

That is my thrill-a-minute life. Sorry if I ruined anything with a peek behind the curtain. Anyways, have a great weekend and come back on Monday. I am cleaning out my "Unclaimed Prize" vault. That means FREE STUFF!

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

For Christmas this year, my wish was for a recording studio setup. We have a space that I felt would work perfect and so I simply see this as the next step in the evolution of my life in the business of entertaining. FIRST, I want to be clear that I am still going to be working with John and Jodi Bricker from Falcon Sound Company, as well as Andy McFerrin. Also, Pamela Lorence will be Ava until she tells me "enough already!" (Which I hope is NEVER!) None of that changes.

So what does change? Good question. As many of you may (or may not) know, I am about to launch a spin-off of my DEAD series. The DEAD: Snapshot {Insert location here} series is revving up and preparing to go. And yes, DEAD: Snapshot--Portland, Oregonis first up, with Leeds, England on deck and then probably a small town most people probably never heard of except those who live there.

I will be narrating that series. As I embark, I am very aware of my lack of technical expertise in this field. I owe John Bricker a huge thanks for not only helping Denise get the correct gear, but also for helping me with the tech side of slapping together an audio book. And no...it ain't easy.

I hope that you all will be grabbing your copy when the first release becomes available. I know some of you cringe at the thought of audio books, and that is cool. You have a good excuse. Especially if you are a librarian. However, I do hope that the rest of you will give me a listen.

Stay tuned for my tales of woe, as well as details on how you can get a copy of my first ever self-narrated audio book, a short titled Kherfin that I have posted here from time to time. Until then, wish me luck.

P.S. If any of you know an awesome webmaster that won't break the bank, I am looking to set up my official Author TW Brown web page. I could use a referral.

Monday, January 5, 2015

For many, the holidays are a mixed blessing. No matter how yours came and went, it is over and I bet most of us are ready to move forward. For me, that means that the next month will be spent getting the house back in order. As an OCD driven clean freak, the holidays really stress me out. It is nice to have the house back and the routine returning.

I gotta learn to talk like a pirate!

That said, this is the best time to start a new routine. With my new African Gray, I have a new thing to learn about and to train. Also, Spring is just around the corner and that is when we hope to have our new Newfies join the Ark...err...I mean family.

Toss in my new recording studio and the writing projects I have coming up and let's just say that 2015 will be a busy year. Did I mention I am going to Vegas in February to renew my vows? Yep. At the KISS wedding chapel!

So, like I said, lots to do. I have a full slate of OCR races coming starting in May, and that means upping my training routine, which really fell off during the holiday season.

So, with 2015 here, what is on your plate? Share with others any goals you have. Statistics show that it improves your chance of success! So why not share here?!

Friday, January 2, 2015

Okay, so it is only the logo. But this will be the basic design for every book in the DEAD: Snapshot series. My amazing cover artist, +Thomas- Andy Butnariu will be given pictures of "landmarks" that will be incorporated in the actual cover design artwork.

However, this was so cool, I just had to share it as we go into the weekend. Also, I thought I would just share something I find very cool.

Thursday, January 1, 2015

This won't take long. But I found this old post and felt that it really exemplifies what this year will be about for me on a personal level. I hope that each of you have an amazing new year. Make the most of it because you only get one chance at owning 2015.

I have always been one of those "I can do it myself" types. I didn't need help, thank you very much, I was quite capable. However, I learned over the last ten years or so that it is nice to rely on loved ones. I also know that not everybody has that luxury, so it was even more important that I appreciate it when it becomes available.

Somewhere along the way, I dropped my guard and let people who were really just "casual" acquaintances become involved in my dream of being an author, in defining my perception of my value. In addition, I was hitching my wagon to others and thinking that they were vested in seeing me do well. The reality is seldom so rose tinted. The truth and fact is, there will be better writers than me who do not see the success I have enjoyed, and there will be those who are worse that reach a bigger audience. My success is going to come from my hard work and continued perseverance...along with a dash of luck.

I have had my struggles, those have been documented and shared here on a few instances. There are those who hate my success, and for a while, that got to me. However, I had some very wonderful people in my life who told me they believed. So, when somebody I had come to trust and respect turned their back...I let that get to me for a while. But after a bit, I realized that I got to where I was without that individual...and I have thrived. My readers are the most wonderful people...many being kind enough to tell me how they enjoyed my book series, be it DEAD. Zomblog, or Ava.

I don't need to hitch my wagon to anybody else's. I got here on my merit. There will always be detractors. I fight every day with slipping in to the "old" ways and telling people EXACTLY what I think. But why slow down my own continued progress because of somebody else?

Be thankful for those who have your back, and be for others the type of person you want in your own life. If you are shallow, do not expect depth from others. But by the same token, don't allow a social media site to redefine the REAL meaning of "friend". I have met some wonderful people that I have never met face to face that I do actually consider real friends (and then I even got to meet a few...which was a real treat that I will hold dear forever!). And along the way, I learned that some people will always be there for you...through good and bad, better or worse. Others won't. That is real life.

About Me

TW Brown is the author of the Zomblog series, DEAD series, and That Ghoul Ava series. He is deeply immersed in
pursuing his dream of being a “full-time” writer while trying to balance the
duties of husband, father, friend, and Border Collie owner. He keeps busy
reading and editing the numerous submissions for a variety of upcoming
anthologies and full-length titles for May December Publications. He has had short stories published by Pill
Hill Press, Living Dead Press, and others.